The scars and leavings of long finished conflicts scatter the whole world. Echoes of strife and war long passed by, the ghosts of those who fought and died yet linger in the small or grand remnants they scatter in their wake, a final gasp of their lives upon this world. A last vestige of their being here, the struggles they had, the things they fought for, good or ill, and the things they used in that fight. What meaning they had, gone, rendered inert, save for what we attribute to them now. Left to be reclaimed by nature and the relentless advance of time, these things fade into the endless depths of history, their mark, forgotten, lest they be preserved, reclaimed, and remembered, lest they and the lessons they may teach be lost....

So, guys, I found this tank.... Who wants to help me get it back to my lair? It'll look GREAT as part of my hoard! :D

Thank you to  ghostoflight for hosting this YCH and for doing such a wonderful job on this piece. Original submission can be found here.
Primary version: Here.